


come back (even as a shadow, even as a dream)

by behradtarazi



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, i say about a ship that has been sunk for years, kinda bittersweet though?, mainly bc i do, overuse of the nicknames crook & assassin, sara misses leonard, their dynamic is Good, they make me weak, vaguely canon compliant, what can i say, yeah this is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 04:48:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behradtarazi/pseuds/behradtarazi
Summary: sara was 100% over leonard, she had to be. she'd accepted his death, moved on.but that didn't mean she couldn't dream.





	come back (even as a shadow, even as a dream)

sara lance was a rational woman.

sure, sometimes anger could make her impulsive, but she did her best to think things through, and didn’t indulge in fantasies of things that could have been but never would be.

at least, she never used to indulge in fantasies. 

however, things could change.

-

technically, sara could blame it all on zari.

zari, who, casually leaning on the doorframe of the library, had unknowingly ended up asking the question that accidentally changed everything, sparked by a name she had heard mick mutter like a curse without any explanation.

“who’s leonard snart?”

the team always gave new legends a brief rundown of the crew members who were no longer with them, whether by death or retirement, and so sara stuck to that script as she responded, careful to keep her voice as neutral as possible.

“snart was captain cold,” she replied. “a thief turned one of the original team members. he sacrificed himself and died in the oculus explosion.”

“i mean, who was he to mick?” zari asked, only made more interested in the subject after seeing sara’s reaction to it. maybe it was a subject best avoided, but pushing a little bit more wouldn’t cause much harm, and she would drop it if it did. “and, judging by your expression right now, i guess i might as well ask: who was he to you, too?”

_ who was leonard snart to her? _

that was a good question, and one that sara herself had pondered many times without getting a satisfactory answer.

‘a friend’ would be the safe response, ‘a lover’ the unnecessarily romantic one, and ‘an almost’ the saddest of the bunch, and perhaps the most accurate, too.

she had been haunted by that almost, for awhile - but she was over that now, at peace with what had happened. (or at least she claimed to be.)

“he was mick’s partner in crime back in central,” sara said, her crossed arms feeling like a shield. “they were...the closest thing to best friends that either of them could have. and snart and i were friends, we got along pretty well.” she took the coward’s way out, this time, and there must have been something in her eyes that day, because zari accepted that answer with a small nod.

“he must have been one hell of a guy.”

“one hell of thief,” sara corrected, the memory hitting her without any warning and the words spilling out without her permission. “he was one hell of a thief.”

-

_ i’ve been thinking about me...and you...and me and you. _

snart had said that to her once, all easy charm and hidden nerves, and sara remembered her cool response, one she maybe wouldn’t have given if she had known how quickly everything would soon go to shit.

she had thought that they had all of the time in the world, and then some.

in a cruel reversal of fortune, she was now the one thinking about her and snart - reminiscing might have been more accurate. longing.

the memory of him haunted her for the rest of the day, fleeting and always hiding out in the corner of her vision, just where she couldn’t quite see him, couldn’t tell if he was real or not.

he would never be real, she reminded herself firmly, slipping out of her long-sleeved shirt as she got ready to climb into bed, looking forward to a few hours of snart-related-guilt-free rest.

but when she drifted off to sleep, it soon became clear that she wouldn’t be getting that freedom.

-

sara found her dream self sitting in the waverider’s kitchen, and, for a moment, she thought that everything was perfectly normal, exactly like it always was - then she heard the creak of a cupboard opening, and turned her head to see the one and only leonard snart, in all of his glory, making himself what appeared to be a hot chocolate (with mini marshmallows, she noted) and completely ignoring sara.

that stung more than it should have.

she had thought that she was over him, had forced herself to be over him, avoided any nostalgic dreams like this with long nights and empty bottles of whiskey.

all of that was for nothing, though, because the moment her eyes landed on his face, free of the slightly scared expression that he had been wearing moments before he died, she felt the sudden urge to find the nearest deck of cards and sit down for another game, to let him steal another kiss, to do anything,  _ anything _ like they had used to, back when he was too clever (or maybe just too selfish) to die and she was too strong (or maybe just too damaged) for fantasies.

god, she was a mess, falling in something damn near love like this.

she wasn’t sure how long she would have sat silently like that, soaking in the sight of him, but he didn’t give her the chance to find out, leaning against the counter with his drink in hand, piercing gaze locked directly on her in that scarily perceptive way of his, like he was reading her mind.

“so, assassin,” leonard said finally, blowing away some of the steam rising up from the mug, “seeing ghosts now, are we?”

sara couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on her face at his familiar tone, even though a rational part of her mind was screaming at her to stop entertaining this dream, that she needed to wake up, that talking to him would only make it hurt more in the morning.

“seems like it, crook,” she replied, crossing her arms. “i have to say, you look pretty good for a dead guy.”

he laughed a little, dry and almost empty. “bonus of being in your mind,” he said, “i can look however you want me to look. don’t go getting any ideas, though. unless if you buy me dinner first.”

she raised an eyebrow, and it was too easy, falling back into banter with him. “well, we are in a kitchen…”

this time, the laugh was more real, lighting up his eyes beautifully. “don’t tempt me,” he drawled, his tone leaving no doubt in sara’s mind that he would have no complaint about being tempted.

and she almost took him up on it - having one imaginary romp before saying their final goodbyes couldn’t do much harm, and it might be just what she needed, it might let her finally get that sick, longing feeling out of her system. but she stopped herself at the last moment, knowing all too well that fucking her way out never really did work.

leonard was like a drug, in a way. she was hooked, and the more she had him, the more she would want him.

she should cut him off, end it now, and she almost did.

then, he slowly said, “you know, i’d almost started to think you’d forgotten about me.” the words were cool, collected as his always are, and she wasn’t entirely sure if the undercurrent of bitterness she had noticed was real or imagined.

then again, the entire conversation was imagined, so did it really make that much of a difference?

(yes, it did.)

“couldn’t forget you if i tried,” she replied, and this time she was sure that she didn’t imagine the bitter look on his face.

“and you really did try.”

she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “i was grieving -” she started to say, then cut herself off. she didn’t need to justify herself, not to a ghost. “i’m not talking about this with you.”

“oh? then who are you talking to?” his words were cold. not cruel, just cold, in a way so very leonard that she felt her heart ache even as she snapped back.

“please, you don’t get to talk about being open with your feelings.”

he nodded, and he almost would have raised his hands in mock surrender if he wasn’t holding his mug of hot chocolate. “fair enough.”

they fell into a tense silence, sara with her fists slightly clenched and leonard relaxed, still drinking casually as if nothing was happening, as if it was simply an ordinary night in the waverider. he gave her a slightly amused smile when she glared at him, and she shook her head.

“god, i miss you, you asshole.”

“...miss you too, lance.”

“do you?”

the question caught him off guard, a rare occurrence, and he considered his response for a moment. “that’s rather existential,” he said eventually, head tilted. “but i’m going to go with yes.”

“always trying to make me feel better, huh?” she said, leaning back in her chair. “even dead.”

“not particularly,” he replied. “just telling the truth.”

“sure, softie.”

he fought back a smile, and put his now-empty mug in the sink, weirdly domestic in a comfortable way that she didn’t want to think about too much. it was better not to acknowledge possible future dreams, though it was rather pathetic that ‘don’t think about it’ was all she had to offer to try and prevent them.

but that weak defense didn’t work even then, and she found herself drowning in thoughts of an impossible life with leonard, kicking ass throughout time and then coming home to the ship and falling into bed together. she needed to stop, needed to stop  _ now _ , to get herself out of the dream before she decided that she never wanted to leave.

leonard seemed to pick up on that, and there might have been a hint of desperation in his voice when he said, “lance, wait.”

sara had already stood, and she paused when he spoke. “yeah?”

“before you go and try to forget about me again...mind giving me a redo of that kiss?”

she laughed, shaking her head a little even as she crossed the kitchen to him. “you’ve got one hell of a nerve, crook.”

“always, assassin.”

moments before their lips met, sara’s eyes snapped open as she woke up, staring into the darkness of her room.

dammit, she had it bad.


End file.
